Last Cigarette
by IllusionWriter
Summary: Casey Case. He hated when Scriggins called him that.


"Casey Case."

He hated when Steve Scriggins called him that. It was Steve's signature way of getting on his nerves. And it was also often the way he greeted him when they met up for the occasional weed deal.

"It's Casey Hartley, asshole. Now can we get this over with already? Here."

Casey unpocketed his hands from his jacket, revealing a medium-sized zip-lock bag with a suspiciously green-toned substance inside. Scriggins grinned, his jagged, sharp teeth deviously showing.

"Now your part."

Scriggins let out a loud snort of amusement, not caring who else was around to hear him at the moment. "Geez, it's like every time we do this, you expect me to cheat you out."

Casey merely narrowed his eyes. "Can you blame me?"

Ignoring Casey's response, Scriggins pulled out a wad of cash, counting off silently to himself. After a couple seconds, he mumbled something silently under his breath and separated a couple bills from the stash, handing it to Casey. "Here's 50."

A slight glint of surprise became apparent in Casey's eyes as he store back up at him. "I thought we agreed at $55."

"..."

Casey sighed, taking the money and handing the marijuana to him agitatedly. 'Seriously dude, it was just $5 more."

Scowling, Scriggins hid the stash in a pocket hidden on the inside of his own jacket. "I didn't bring a 5 to even it out, and I sure as hell ain't givin' you another full ten." Turning to walk away, he added, "Nice business. Later, Casey Case."

Silently fuming, Casey turned the opposite way, stuffing away the money.

The train tracks was his favorite place to go.

Every now and then he would lay down on the tracks and light a cigarette.

Like now.

And admittedly, when he heard the nearby roar of the approaching train, he had sometimes pondered if he should ultimately move.

' _Well, that was a quick shift in tone',_ Casey thought to himself.

But it was dark, and he was in a dark place. He wished if not always sunshine, that it would at least be the cycling of day and night. But on the inside, it wasn't always like that. It was more like a rainy forecast with few sunny days and clear nights in-between.

He wondered if it was depression. Feeling like this almost everyday since...can't even remember...maybe middle school? But he had never directly seeked to get checked on it. Kept silent from his parents, his brother...

And Mae. Mae Borowski.

Not that that stopped her from trying to reach out to him. And she did reach out to him. But in a more personal way. She was simply there for him. Always saying the craziest shit, doing the craziest shit, and just being the craziest shit. You know, in her own, good way. Though they had issues of their own, they always came full-circle.

But that wasn't today.

Before taking the cigarette from out of his mouth, he gave a long drag and seem to contemplate fully inhaling the smoke before decidedly puffing it out. His head laid parallel to the ground, facing away from the nearby forest as he store tiredly up at the sky.

It was cloudy. No star in sight.

Casey closed his eyes and pondered to himself again.

' _I don't want to be this. I don't want my brother to be this. I don't want my mom to regret letting me-'_

Casey's ear twitched as a relatively close noise snapped him out of his thoughts. He arose as fast as he could, but unfortunately, not fast enough to register what had wrapped an arm around his waist and shoved a dampened cloth against his face.

He could only attempt struggle as his mind began to float and waver.

 _So this is it? This is how my story ends, huh? Ha...haha...ha! The punk wasn't even man enough to sho..w his fa..ce..._

* * *

Blackness.

Just darkness.

Until Casey came to and found the strength to open his eyes.

Still drowsy, he weakly shifted on the unknown soil, quickly noticing that he wasn't able to bring forth his arms. They were tied up. But even with this knowledge, he still tried to break free, squirming and wrestling with the binding until a loud, matured voice rang out, causing him to flinch.

"Set him up."

The room was certainly dark, but not without light. It was enough to see the feint outlines of multiple figures approaching him from seemingly all sides. "Wait! WAIT!" Casey yelled as the unknown entities caught hold of him and brought him on his knees.

"Wha-what IS THIS!?" Casey shouted, shaking. "What's going on? Is this some sick joke, haha, cause I get it now, alright! Now let me go-"

"SILENCE!"

The voice, louder and the same as the set before, ripped through the walls of wherever the hell they all were, echoing around Casey like a sickening reminder of what might keep him living just a bit longer.

' _Like some kinda cave...'_ Casey mentally evaluated, slightly pulling against one of the unknown assailants holding him straight.

The figure in front of Casey, the one that shouted out, had begun to slowly approach him. As Casey had lowered his eyes to the terrain, he only noticed two things: lights of orange now beginning to illuminate the floor around him and the bottom of what seemed to be cloth belonging a robe... _a robe?_

' _Aww dammit is this some effing CULT?'_

Casey's chin was roughly grabbed and forcibly yanked upwards, causing him to, with no other choice, look at his kidnapper. And through the light of the torches lit by his assailants, he did.

"O-Oh my god...you...you.."

Casey was at a loss for words. Everything began to spin inside of his head. Everything was happening so fast. But what _was_ very clear to him was that he knew his attacker.

" _ **Stop cryin' Casey. You need to be strong."**_

Without another word, the hooded figure arose, turning towards a darker tunnel that went further into the unknown. The figure turned around briefly, waving for his other followers to pursue, just before it picked up and lit a lantern to guide the way. Casey was yanked up to his feet and forced along with them as they went in deeper.

Nothing but rocks, coal and old wooden planks were to be seen by the light of the lantern as they traveled through the path. Casey frantically tried reasoning with them.

"Why are you all doing this? What good would come of this? Just murdering people like this? This isn't the first time is it? You have to stop this isn't ri-"

But to no avail.

"This _is_ right. And soon, Possum Springs will be restored to it's former glory. You wouldn't understand...you're just another _peasant_." the voice of the hooded figure holding his right arm said. And the voice also sounded familiar, but Casey couldn't quite place this one.

" _ **Stop cryin' Casey. You need to be strong. Like your big bro. Okay? I know it's tough, but you gotta be tough too."**_

They had finally cleared the tunnel and entered another room all together. It wasn't huge, and on the other side resided another pathway. What lied ahead further into it was left a mystery due to lack of lighting. But something stood in the way of getting there. Something huge.

An enormous hole was presented to Casey as the hooded figures ushered him forth. He was within at least 5 feet from it's mouth. Casey visibly flinched back, the robbed members held him in place, much to his horror.

And this made their 'leader' _chuckle_.

"Heheh...don't you get it, Casey? This is all for the greater good." the hooded figure with the miner's light fixed on it's head said, kneeling to face the young kid's frightened face. Some of the hooded figures around the two began to shift nervously.

"Don't worry. I promise your sacrifice won't be in vain."

Casey's eyes remained fixated on the hole in front of him. It was a pitch-black descent into seemingly nothing. Nothing for a long time.

Casey began to cry. And it was something he never, ever did in front of others. _Ever_. He had been so successful at hiding his eternal pain, that he eventually became successful at hiding his tears.

" _ **Stop cryin' Casey. You need to be strong. Like your big bro. Okay? I know it's tough, but you gotta be tough too. These assholes don't know you. And I swear to god if I was there...Casey, listen. Don't listen to those punks. Not a damn word. You gotta be strong for ma and pop. For me. And for yourself. Don't ever forget that. Now stop cryin'."**_

Except from his brother.

With a sudden conjured strength, Casey managed to loosen the other cultist's grip on him by surging forward. He connected the top of his skull with the leader's nose, effectively sending him near the edge of the hole.

"NUUAGH!" the cultist shrieked out, holding it's now broken nose instinctively. What was nearly forgotten in the flash of the moment was how close the cultist was to stumbling straight into that hole. It was due to the quick-wits of another cultist rushing forward to pull it's brethren away that the leader was still here and not _down_ _there_.

Casey tried using the surprise he had given them to break free, but he was quickly forced back down by someone behind him.

"That SONOFABITCH!"

"Eide, calm down."

"I'LL SHOW YOU YOU STUPID-"

EIDE, CALM DOWN!"

Casey felt the shift in gravity as he was pulled up by his hoodie, and shoved forward.

And it was all a rush of air and darkness from there. He wondered how deep the hole even was...or how many came before him. He wondered what would come after once this was all over. He wondered all of this. But what he didn't have to wonder was when his tears would cease falling. They had stopped before he was even pushed forward.

And the gushing of air blowing against him as he descended only dried any tears that were they're before.

' _Mothereffers did me a favor._ ' Casey thought.

' _I'm not going to cry for them. I'm not crying anymore, bro. I'm effing tired of crying."_

And if he was going out, he was going out with a bang.

Casey reached for his pants pocket, pulling out his lighter and the last cigarette he planned to smoke that day. And against the wind that oppressed him, he held that cigarette up to his lips, holding the lighter to it's tip, and began flicking a flame that would never come to be.

" _I'm not...I'm not..."_


End file.
